The beeps of the machine connected to Kurt resonated in his mind, echoing loudly in the empty space. There were things he could remember, and things he couldn't, but the worst part was that he couldn't wake up.

Flashes of navy and red drifted through his vision in the blackness, taunting him of a memory that wasn't quite complete. There was something about the way those colors combined that sparked something deep within him.

All of a sudden, more images flashed through his mind. Boys dancing in lavish rooms decorated with plush furniture and dark colors. Singing songs with people he thinks he knows. A dark haired boy kissing him sweetly on the lips, a hand in his hair. Celebrating over something he just lost, but enjoying a moment with friends.

But there's something that's just so, displaced about all of these memories. There's something missing.

When Kurt tries hard to think of their faces, there's always something wrong, like the wrong eye color, or the wrong length of hair, or the wrong smile or laugh. He can't even place any names to these people. And it's distressing him to no end.

He's in some sort of limbo, between sentience and consciousness that drives him crazy. If only he could just wake up, then maybe he could remember…

More days pass, and he's still not returned to his former self. There's no escape for this state he's in. he can faintly hear his friends and family around him, blatantly worried about him, but there's nothing he can do to assure them that he's okay.

It's been a couple of weeks, and Burt Hummel is sitting by his son's bed, waiting, hoping, praying for signs of awareness from his son. All he can do is just sit there, like he has been for the last three weeks.

Burt puts a loving hand on Kurt's face, brushing aside a lock of hair that had fallen on his forehead. "Please, please just come back to me, son."

Kurt's eyes flutter open groggily, and Burt does a double take before he's jumping into the hall, yelling for a doctor to see this miracle come to life.

One of Kurt's doctor's just happens to pass by and he follows the excited Burt into the room to examine Kurt.

Kurt hasn't moved, but his eyes are darting around the room fearfully. The doctor moves to the side of the bed and asks him how he's feeling.

"I'm fine. But, where am I? Why am I not at school? Where are my friends?" Burt looks defeated as he realizes what's going on. "Dad, why are you crying?" he asks.

Burt just shakes his head and says nothing. Kurt cocks his head a little, then smiles. "I remembered their names, Dad. I remembered. I've been trying this whole time, and I just came up with it. By the way, why aren't they here? They're my best friends."

Burt lightens up at this. "Kurt they're at school."

Kurt nods his heads, understanding. "Oh, right. Well as soon as I get out of here, I want to head straight to Dalton. I need to get practicing with the Warblers again. We have a performance coming up, and Blaine and I have this duet we were working on."

Burt is confused and on the verge of tears again. He can't answer his son, because he's never heard of a place called Dalton, or who the Warblers were or who this Blaine person was. He was scared to think that Kurt was imagining things.

The doctor pulled Burt aside and spoke to him in a low voice so Kurt couldn't hear. "Mr. Hummel, I need you to stay calm with Kurt for the time being. He's just getting out of this coma, and who knows what kind of damage this Karofsky kid inflicted on him. He may never realize that none of what he just said exists, or he may forget all of that and be back to normal within a couple of days. Right now, he just needs patience and a loving father to help him through this. I recommend you don't let his other friends interact with him until he figures this out, because they may slip up and this could traumatize him. Don't tell him how he got here, either. His wounds have healed, so he may not even question it. I need you to do this for Kurt, Mr. Hummel. To protect him."

The doctor was looking for a response from Burt, but he was just silently nodding, unable to look in the doctor's eyes for fear of breaking down in the room with his delusional son as a witness. That was the last thing that Kurt needed.

A week passed and Kurt was back at home, but not yet at school. The district was still sorting out the issue, even though Karofsky had been expelled and arrested, they were trying to come up with new policies to prevent further attacks.

Kurt was still under the impression that he went to some fancy school two hours away and that he was friends with all these people from a glee club called the Warblers. He was also under the impression that he had a boyfriend named Blaine, and Burt wasn't sure if he was ready for something like that quite yet, imagination or not.

It pained Burt to see his son light up whenever he talked about the subject of the school, and he always refrained from taking his son in his arms and letting him know the truth.

A couple days later, Kurt was noticing how he hadn't gotten any contact from the people he spoke of so often. He approached Burt in the kitchen to ask him why he hadn't gotten any calls or messages from them. This was the conversation Burt had been most apprehensive of, but he had secretly promised to himself that if Kurt asked about it, he would tell him.

So he did, as gently as he could. But nothing could prepare him for the way Kurt began covering his ears with his hands and tearing up, stammering wildly that no, this isn't happening, I'm not crazy, they're real, dammit they're real, why are you telling me this. Kurt sank to the floor, rocking back and forth in a cocoon of hurt, that nobody was telling him the truth and the possibility that he had made it all up in his head.

But it seemed so real to him. Like six months had passed by. The last thing he remembers before the fake memories of Dalton was Karofsky, kissing him in the locker room. He remembers being shoved against a locker, and things went black, and oh god Karofsky did this to him. He put the pieces together and realizes that it was all a lie. All of it. Those memories of the school were just a figment of his imagination, created by his subconscious to make up for the lack of support and love in his life.

And he's upset because he thought he had the only thing he's ever wanted, but it turns out it wasn't real. The place to fit in, the friends surrounding him with love, a boy who liked him for who he is and loves him unconditionally. All of that was gone, taken from him in an instant.

But it never really was his to begin with.

Idea that came up randomly from the lovely polygamistpancreas from tumblr. I wanted to write it, so yeah, I wrote it. I hope you liked it :)